


Alexandria

by Shorm (Bdoing), Vinnocent



Series: Humanity Is Watching [7]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate, Firefly
Genre: Ableism, Gen, Slurs, Slut Shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-10-27
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:53:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2521412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bdoing/pseuds/Shorm, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vinnocent/pseuds/Vinnocent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco visits his father and considers his options while the crew reunites with old friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to be busy this week, so I'm trying to shove this whole 4-chapter fic into a day so y'all have something to read.

“Mm,” Rachel said, stirring her meal around idly with her fork. “Rabbit and dandelion. Again. Oh, joy.”

“It’s not exactly the same!” Jake insisted, huffing. “I fried it this time!”

“And it makes all the difference, honey,” Cassie said with a tight smile.

“You are such a terrible liar,” Rachel chastised.

“Oh, hey, is that rabbit?” Tobias asked as he came down into the galley from the bridge, and Jake turned and handed him a plate from where he was still working at the stove on the last pieces of rabbit. Tobias immediately went over to Cassie’s side of the table and traded his dandelion greens for her rabbit while she gave him a grateful smile. “So where’s Ax and Erek?” he asked.

“Well, now that we know Erek’s an android, he doesn’t have to pretend to eat,” said Jake. “And Ax is currently banned from the galley until after everyone’s had their share, seeing as how he always eats too much.”

“You know, he didn’t used to eat that much,” said Rachel. “He hated protein cubes.”

“Because everyone hates protein cubes,” said Tobias.

“Remember to keep the bones for Tom’s soup,” Cassie said as Rachel stood to move her plate to the disposal. Rachel made a dismissive gesture, but she dropped the bones into the stock pot.

Jake turned off the stove and took up the last two plates. “I’m gonna take this to Marco,” he told Cassie, lightly kissing her on top of the head as he passed by.

“Okay,” she said, smiling up at him. “Let him know I’m checking in on him tonight, after I finish the modifications.”

“What the fuck?” They all turned to Rachel, who was leaning against the counter and scrolling through her panel. “We just got a summons to a derelict site.”

“What?” Tobias demanded, quickly moving to her side. “I thought your license was revoked.”

“Maybe they forgot you have to do more than tear it up?” said Cassie.

“Hold on.” Rachel tapped the screen a few more time, then nodded, saying, “Yeah, my license is listed as up-to-date.”

“Well, decline it,” Jake said, moving back to the door.

“Jake, if they realize their mistake, this could be our last chance at good work for a long while!” Rachel objected.

“Too bad,” he said. “We’ve got an appointment to make.”

“What, Marco can’t go to Alexandria next month?” Rachel demanded.

“He could, but Peter can only meet us there now.”

Rachel’s hands fell to her side. “What?”

“Marco’s leaving?” Tobias asked.

Jake glanced to Cassie, but she was gazing sullenly at her lap. “I don’t know,” he said at last. “He hasn’t decided. He just… He needs Peter. And, right now, we need to give him what he needs.”

“What is this about?” Rachel demanded. “First, he blows up at Ax. Then, he locks himself in his shuttle, only letting in you and Cassie and never coming out. And now he’s leaving? What the fuck happened on that Cruiser?”

Jake shook his head. “I’m sorry, but it ain’t your business.”

Rachel snorted. “Seems like I ain’t got any business lately,” she said, and she tossed her panel onto the table before storming out of the galley.

Jake sighed heavily, gave her a head start to be polite, then left the galley himself to head to Marco’s shuttle. He found Marco where he always was lately － in bed. “Brought you food,” said Jake, setting his plate down on the coffee table and Marco’s plate on his bedside table before sitting on the edge of Marco’s bed.

“Not hungry,” Marco mumbled into his pillow.

“Yeah, I know,” Jake said, rubbing the spot between Marco’s shoulders. “But if you don’t eat it, I _will_ force-feed you broth.”

Marco swatted at him but eventually turned over. He gazed up at him blearily and started to say something. Instead, he grabbed Jake by the collar and pulled him into a deep kiss. Jake’s tension melted just slightly, and he kissed back eagerly. Marco’s hands slid down to his waist, but Jake captured them by the wrist and backed off while Marco made a small noise of disappointment.

“That’s not gonna make things better,” Jake said quietly.

“No, but it’ll feel like they are for a little while,” Marco said, leaning forward to kiss at the line of Jake’s jaw.

Jake couldn’t help smiling a little. “Tell you what,” he said. “Eat your dinner, and then I promise I’m all yours.”

Marco scowled. “You are an assassin of fun,” he said.

Jake smirked. “Of course. How do you think I worked my way up to corporal?”

－ －

Marco checked his appearance in the mirror for the umpteenth time. He hadn’t worn a suit in months, and he was certain it wasn’t sitting _quite_ right, but no amount of fussing was resolving the issue. He’d removed all his ear piercings but left the nose ring. His jewelry was minimal and masculine and so was his makeup. His hair was smoothed back into a neat, low ponytail.

There was a knock at his door. “Come in,” Marco said, quickly smoothing out non-existence wrinkles in his trousers as the shuttle door was pushed open.

Ax entered, already with a nervous energy about him. He was a fidgeter, like Tobias. “Captain Berenson said you wanted to see me?” he mumbled, eyes on the floor.

Marco couldn’t help smirking. “Doesn’t always saying ‘Captain Berenson’ get awkward for you?” he asked.

Ax appeared confused. “No?” he said.

Marco shook his head. “Nevermind,” he said. “Uh, look, first thing I want to say is that I’m sorry for blowing up at you. Deeply sorry. I’m mortified at my behavior, and really, I should have told you that sooner. I’ve been… selfish these past few days.”

Ax finally lifted his gaze and considered him carefully. Finally, he said, “I accept your apology. I am glad that it has been made.”

Marco nodded. He started to run his hand through his hair, then remembered that he’d just gotten it right, and dropped his hand to his side. “Has Jake talked to you about… about why we’re landing on Alexandria?” he asked.

Ax shrugged. “He said you wanted to visit your father and there was only a small window in which to do so without flying into the core zone.”

Marco nodded. He sighed and leaned back against his dresser. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, um… The thing is… I’ve always been the man with the plan, you know? Any situation that came up… Anything that needed doing… I could see the bright, clear path from A to B. From A to Z, even. It’s not always a nice path, but it’s the one that works. It’s what makes me so good at my job.

“For the first time ever… I don’t know what the path is. I try to grasp it, and it falls through my fingers like smoke. I’m not even sure what the end point is. I think I see it, but it’s like a dream where no matter how fast you run, the object of your desire remains on the horizon, too far to reach.

“The one thing that I do know I have to do before I can do anything else is make sure that everyone I love is safe.” He met Ax’s eyes evenly then. “That’s what I’m asking from you. I need to know… Could you tell if my father is a… host, or whatever you called it?”

Ax considered what Marco had said for a what seemed like ages to Marco before finally saying, “There are signs by which I might be able to tell if he is a Controller, but I cannot, for certain, tell if he is _not_ a Controller without being able to observe him for the entirety of three UA Standard days.”

“You can just say ‘days,’” said Marco, rolling his eyes. “We get it; you’re an alien. Why would you need to observe him for three days?”

“Yeerks require Kandrona radiation to survive,” Ax explained. “They must leave their host and return to a Yeerk pool to feed on Kandrona within three days or they will expire.”

Marco straightened up, eyes wide. “Expire?” he repeated.

Ax nodded. “They will starve. Usually, fleeing the host and then disintegrating, though sometimes disintegration happens within the host, which can be potentially damaging, depending on biological－”

“You mean we can kill them?” Marco demanded. There was a hint of a grin playing at the edges of his lips. “ _Without_ killing the host?”

“Yes,” said Ax. “What is more difficult is doing so without being noticed and to prevent re-infestation.”

That only made Marco’s grin broaden. Suddenly, he was hugging a very startled Ax. “Ax, my man,” he said, pulling away, “you’re telling a smuggler that the hardest part is keeping something out of reach.” He patted Ax on the shoulder and headed for the shuttle door. “I think I might be seeing the line again!”

Ax stood there for a moment, confused. Then, he called after Marco, “Are all humans this wildly emotional?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Shorm for Japanese, Mandarin, and French. The phrases translate merely to "And this is [language]," as Marco is simply demonstrating a few alternate languages for Ax.

“Is there something wrong with your clothing?” Ax asked, watching Marco play with his cuffs again.

“What?” Marco turned to his “assistant.” “Oh… No, not really. I just…”

“Marco?”

Marco and Ax turned toward the front door of the hotel lobby. The man standing there was slightly taller than Marco and noticeably paler. He had a very similar nose to Marco. His hair was more white than brown, thinning, and cut short. He was not as impeccably dressed as Marco, though that was such a high bar that it didn’t count against him. He wore a buttoned shirt, slacks, and loafers. He also wore a pair of thick glasses.

Marco grinned broadly. “Papá,” he greeted. He walked forward to Peter Guerra and put out his hand. “It’s good to see you again.”

Peter gave Marco a strange look and said, “You’re an idiot.” And he pulled his son into a hug.

Marco stiffened briefly, then relaxed, letting some of the tension of the past couple weeks melt away as he hugged his father back. Finally, he pulled back and violently pulled his emotions back into the box they were kept in. He smiled and gestured to Ax. “Papá, this is my assistant Alex Fangor. You haven’t met before. Fangor, this is my father, Peter Guerra.”

Peter smiled and extended a hand toward Ax. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said.

Ax stared at the extended hand, confused. “... To you, as well?” he guessed.

Marco quickly grabbed Peter’s hand, blushing. “He’s, uh, germaphobic,” he lied.

Peter raised an eyebrow at that. “And he works with you?” he asked curiously.

Marco’s smile faltered. “I… We’re tested regularly,” he said. “You know that.”

“Oh, come on, Marco, you know that wasn’t what I meant!” Peter insisted. “I just meant that－”

“We should probably move to the restaurant before they invalidate my reservation,” Marco interrupted, gesturing in the direction of the high-class hotel’s expensive restaurant.

Peter rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to take everything so personally,” he said.

“I promise I’m not taking anything personally,” he said. “I’m just worried about the reservation.” He gestured again toward the restaurant.

Peter nodded and began heading in the indicated direction. “I hope you don’t mind that I brought work with me,” he said patting the panel in his pocket. “This new system just has us scrambling.”

“No problem,” Marco said, dropping into step behind him.

Ax leaned in close to Marco and whispered, “Unusual or out of character behavior is often a sign of infestation.”

Marco shook his head. “It’s not unusual,” he muttered.

“Did your father not just insult you?” Ax pressed.

“He didn’t mean it,” Marco said. He smiled tightly at the hostess and stepped in front of his father to tell her, “Reservation for Companion Guerra and two guests.” She checked her panel, then nodded and lead them into the restaurant.

“Do you have to announce your job to everyone?” Peter asked, sounding annoyed.

“Yes, father, I actually do,” Marco snipped, speeding his steps slightly to close the distance between him and the hostess. Behind him, Peter sighed wearily.

－ －

Jake pointed to the needle in Erek’s hand then signed _Syringe._ He pressed his hand lightly to Tom’s forehead to try to communicate what the medication was for.

Tom leaned back away, shaking his head. He signed _No_ , then gestured to his head.

Jake rubbed the bridge of his nose wearily. “How do I tell him his head is sick in a way he’ll understand?” he wondered out loud, though not particularly to Erek. He was cut off when Tobias waved a hand in his peripheral vision for his attention. “What?” Jake asked, turning to him.

“Did you post that mid-size grav router for trade?” Tobias asked, careful to face Jake and enunciate clearly instead of his usual mumbling to the floor.

Jake nodded. “Yeah. For any of the list of items Ax swears would benefit us,” he explained.

“There’s a Firefly saying they’ll give a magnetic scanner for it,” Tobias said, shoving a thumb in the general direction of the bridge, where he’d received the transmission.

“What’s a Firefly doing with a magnetic scanner?” Jake wondered. Tobias shrugged, so Jake just sighed. “Yeah, okay, approve it and set it up,” he said. “And let Rachel know about it so she’ll get off my back.”

Tobias’s eyes went briefly wide at that, and he flustered.

“She’s behind me, isn’t she?” Jake asked.

Instead of answering, Tobias fled. Jake turned to face his cousin, who was smirking at him. _Good work, Captain,_ she signed, turning "Captain" into the grandiose gesture that they all used for Jake specifically.

He just grinned back at her. _Thank you, R-shoot._

－ －

For the forty-second time in a half-hour, Marco reached out and grabbed Ax’s wrist to keep him from literally shoveling food into his mouth. For the forty-second time, Ax blushed and attempted, poorly, to restrain himself. Luckily, Peter was too busy with his panel to really notice. Which Marco also used to his advantage by trading plates with Ax once Ax had finished his own.

“So, they have you on Ra Amiran now,” Marco said conversationally.

Peter glanced up briefly. Then, recalling what he was doing, looked up again, blushing. “Oh, right, yes. Sorry, I just… Yes, um…” Peter grappled for the words to explain his work to his son. “Well, our investor has this idea they want to try, and the science stations on Ra Amiran are the best place to do it.”

“An idea they want to try?” Marco said skeptically. “You don’t have to dumb it down _that_ much.”

“I’m not!” Peter insisted. “It really is that level of experimental.”

“Seriously?” said Marco. “So what’s the experiment?”

“Well, uh, have you heard of the Z-space hypothesis?” asked Peter, and Marco saw Ax suddenly stiffen. Ax put his fork down to pay rapt attention to Peter, which was certainly a significant gesture coming from him.

Marco smiled tightly. “Nope,” he said. “Please, enlighten me.”

“Well, it’s just an idea,” said Peter. He laughed. “It’s so unprovable, it might as well be philosophy. A thought experiment or something. But there’s this idea out there that… Here, hold on.” He pushed his plate aside and put his panel down on the table, and Ax briefly leaned to the side to catch a glance of what Peter had been working on before he closed the application and opened a sketch program. With his finger, he traced out a quick doodle of a cube.

“Okay,” he said, scooting the panel over toward the center of the small, round table so that Marco and Ax could see better. “so this is a point.” He tapped a corner of the cube. “And this is a line,” he said, tapping an edge. “And this is a plane,” he said, tapping a side. “And the whole thing is a three dimensional object.”

Marco nodded, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Yes, Peter. I’m twenty-eight; I think I understand spatial dimensions by now.”

Peter nodded excitedly, ignoring Marco’s tone. “Right, right,” he said. “So think about this: All these things, the point, the line, the plane, the object, they’re part of the same thing, right?”

Marco nodded. “Well, yes. They’re all parts of that cube.”

“But, at the same time, they’re not,” said Peter. “You don’t actually make a cube by assembling lines and planes. The object, as we conceive it in our three-dimensional space, is always an object. If you build it out of paper, the paper is not truly two-dimensional; it’s three dimensional. The water that makes an ice cube is three-dimensional, too. You can never ever spread a three-dimensional object flat enough to make it two-dimensional.” He tapped the screen again. “So all these parts that make it, how do they make it? Where do they come together? In what space does a point transfigure into a line, a line into a plane, a plane into an object?”

“Z-space,” said Marco, leaning forward with interest.

“Right!” said Peter, grinning.

“How do you even begin to test something like that?” asked Marco.

Peter spread his hands and leaned back. “Well, for the most part, you don’t,” he said. “Which is why it’s largely been ignored by most everyone. I hadn’t heard of it until I was approached for the job.”

That gave Marco a bit of relief, but not much. “So what are you doing with it, then?” he asked.

“Well, the request was both incredibly simple and incredibly complex,” said Peter. “It was to build a patch for the Cortex _as though_ we knew Z-space to be a thing.”

“The Cortex?” Marco repeated.

“Imagine,” Peter said, leaning forward eagerly and gesturing with his hands. “If you could push a signal through a dimensional seam. You could transfer it almost instantly from one part of space to another. Without signal entropy, electronic interference, relay stations… It would even be more secure from hacking!”

Marco smiled tightly. “Wow, that… would certainly be a thing,” he agreed.

“The most brilliant part is that it’s _actually working_!” Peter said. “Isn’t that exciting?”

“It’s…” _Terrifying,_ Marco thought. “Thrilling,” he said.

“Excuse me, sir,” a waitress said, tapping Peter’s shoulder. “You have a call. They say it’s an urgent matter.”

“Oh!” He stood, then seemed to suddenly realize that it was polite to excuse himself first. “Sorry, Marco, it’s probably work. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

Marco nodded and watched him go. “If he’s a Yeerk,” he whispered, watching his father’s back disappear into the crowd as he followed the waitress to the phone, “he’s the worst one ever.”

“Yes,” Ax agreed, tapping at Peter’s panel, which he had already captured, “but if he is as adaptable to foreign technology as he claims, that may change at any moment.”

“Don’t mess with my father’s shit,” Marco said, leaning across the table to grab the panel, but Ax merely shifted away from him.

“I am doing something,” Ax said. “Does your father not know that you’re a vecol?”

Marco snorted. “I’m a what?”

Ax made a vague gesture. “I think the closest human word is－”

“English,” Marco corrected.

Ax glanced up at him. “What?” he asked, confused.

“The language we’re speaking right now? That’s English,” said Marco. “Y este es el español. Zhe shi putonghua. Kore ga nihongo desu. Et celui-ci, c'est le français. There are thousands more, and each of those has dozens of dialects.”

“But surely this is the－”

“No,” Marco said sharply. “There is no ‘official’ language. There is no ‘standard’ language. There is no ‘human’ language. You are speaking _English_.”

Ax blinked at him for a moment, then returned his attention to Peter’s panel. “I apologize for any offense,” he said. “It is difficult to understand the parts of your culture which are so different from my own. Andalites standardized language in prehistory.”

“Your whole species speaks the same language?” Marco asked, his gut twisting wretchedly.

“Yes,” said Ax.

“That’s…” Marco sighed, not wanting to start a fight. “Nevermind,” he said. “So what’s a vecol?”

“The closest word in _English_ , I think, is ‘invalid’,” said Ax.

Marco nearly choked on his wine. As soon as Ax looked up, Marco shot him a vicious glare. “You know, the last time someone called me that, I challenged him to a sword fight so that I could kill him legally. Time before that was in the war, so I simply blew his brain out the back of his skull for it. So tell me, Alex, do you really wanna stand by that word?”

Ax frowned, confused. “Did I say something wrong again?” he asked. “Am I not correct that human legs are not usually interchangeable?”

Marco laughed, rough and bitter. “Let me explain something to you, Ax,” he hissed, leaning forward. “I got my legs blown off in the war. And no, my dad doesn’t know. It cuts a bit at my ego to think of myself as unpretty, so I don’t usually let other people know if I can help it. Even less do I like the results of pity and worry. And if you wanna think of me like that, that’s your business. Call it whatever the fuck you want. But if there is one word that does not apply to me, that has _never_ applied to me, even back in the field hospital when I was teetering around on gorram _pegs_ like a newborn foal, that word is ‘invalid.’ I have never once in my life been _not valid_ , and if you should ever deem it appropriate to imply otherwise again, I _will_ shoot you, even if we’re in public, which is currently the only thing saving you from having your ass handed to you. Are we clear?”

Ax just stared at him.

“Fuck it,” Marco hissed, getting up out of his chair. “I’m going for a smoke. Stay here. Don’t eat the plates.”


	3. Chapter 3

As Ax stepped into the galley, he blinked in surprise. “There are more people here than I expected,” he said, and a large human with facial fur who was of roughly the same coloration as Jake, but with much more age and muscle, laughed at him, causing him to shrink back against the door uncertainly.

“Axex!” Jake exclaimed happily, raising a bottle in greeting. He was speaking much louder than he needed to. “Meet the crew of _Serenity_! This man!” He used his bottle to gesture in the direction of a pale human, not as muscular as the other, wearing a red shirt and suspenders. “This man saved my ass on more than one occasion, and I still owe him a punch in the face!”

“You do not!” the human in suspenders objected. “You say that every time you’re drunk! You’ve hit me six times now!”

“You’re a liar, Malcolm Reynolds,” Jake slurred jokingly.

“Where’s Marco?” Rachel asked Ax. “Didn’t he come back with you?”

“Yes, he is still in the shuttle,” said Ax. “His father moves slowly.”

Jake squinted at him. “What?”

“Shit,” Cassie hissed, and she hurried out of her chair and out of the galley without explanation.

“I seem to be saying a lot of things wrong today,” Ax mumbled apologetically.

“It’s not you,” Rachel assured him. “Peter’s just…”

“Core,” said Tobias.

“Very Core,” said Rachel.

“The Core-iest,” said Jake.

“Marco’s from the core?” asked a dark-skinned human, though not as dark-skinned as Cassie, with long, very curly hair and a knowing smirk not entirely unlike one of Marco’s expressions. This one wore a leather vest and a gun belt. Though, Ax realized at that point, the bearded one and the one with suspenders were also armed. Despite their clear intoxication. “I never would’ve guessed.”

“How did you meet?” asked a pale human with a slight bit more softness to her than her friends, though not at all as much as Rachel, wearing a set of light green, ripped and stained coveralls with many decorative patches. She looked closer to the age of _Jian Seng_ ’s crew than the rest of _Serenity_ ’s crew. “Him being a… a fancy companion from the core an’ all?”

“We grew up together,” said Jake with a silly smile.

The soft human blinked. “You… you did?” she asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” said the vested human, leaning against the remaining stranger, a very pale human with very pale hair. “Our Captain Berenson is a man of Ariel City.”

“Wow, really?” the girl exclaimed.

“You saying it doesn’t show?” Jake teased.

“We’ve _almost_ got the smell scrubbed off him,” Tobias teased.

“You must’a really believed in the cause for the both of you to sign up for the Independent Faction,” the girl continued, her voice awed. 

“Jake did,” the one called Malcolm teased. “Marco was…”

“There for Jake?” said Rachel. “Yeah, that’s no secret.”

“Really?” said the bearded man, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you was－”

“And I didn’t know you was that stupid,” Jake cut him off. He grinned and raised his bottle again in what _appeared_ to be a friendly manner, but Ax was not sure it was. “I guess we’re all learning new things today.”

“You just gonna keep standing there, son?” Malcolm asked. “We got plenty of chairs.”

“ _I_ have plenty of chairs,” countered Rachel. “They’re all my chairs. Mine. And Ax can totally sit in one if he likes.”

“I should actually return to my quarters,” Ax said quickly. “I… have a deadline.”

“A deadline?” repeated the palest one.

“He has to pee,” Tobias translated, and the others laughed.

Ax forced a brief smile, then made his escape. Of course, he didn’t need to pee, he needed to demorph. It seemed like his life these days was spent constantly endangering his natural form, but he couldn’t sustain himself as an Andalite on _Jian Seng_. They had no green area, and even sleeping as an Andalite could barely be accomplished in the claustrophobic space of his passenger cabin.

Still, it was relaxing to stretch his own legs again. _His_ legs. He found himself considering them in new ways. He wondered, if Marco was given the chance to morph and return to his proper form, as an Andalite would, would Marco be angry at the suggestion? Did humans bond to these conditions instead of holding onto honor?

Of course, it did no good to consider it. To share the technology would be unthinkably immoral, and the opportunity would never arise anyway. There were no more Andalites in Human Space.

He had only been demorphed for a few minutes when there was a knock on his door. “Aximili, may I speak to you?” Cassie called.

<Please wait,> said Ax. <I will morph human to make room.> He concentrated on his chosen human form and his fur began to melt away, and his forelegs withered away. His bones twisted and contorted, grinding down into a more compact shape. Half his vision disappeared, and he felt the new fur fall down against his neck and ears.

When the process was finished, he reached over to the human sleeping platform and retrieved the clothing he had been wearing earlier, which was very important to human interaction. Once he had finished that task, he pulled himself up into what he still felt was the very precarious position of standing upright. “You may now come in,” he said.

Cassie pushed the door open, entered, and closed the door behind her. She looked around the room and frowned. “How big is your Andalite form?” she asked curiously.

Ax was confused by the question but replied, “The smaller of the cattle that this vessel was recently housing…”

“The yearlings?” said Cassie. “You mean you’re cow-shaped?”

Ax mimicked the human shrug. “Yes and no,” he said. “Anyway, I am closer to that size than your adult cattle.”

Cassie smiled. “That’s adorable,” she said. “But I’m surprised you think there’s not enough room for you here. It’s not exactly abundant in space, but it’s bigger than mine.”

“I think Andalites are different from humans,” Ax said noncommittally.

“Mm,” she said, frowning. She sat on the very edge of the sleeping platform and folded her hands in her lap. “Yeah, that’s what I came to talk to you about. Did you call Marco an invalid?”

“I will not use that word again,” Ax promised.

Cassie smiled slightly. “Yes, I’m sure you won’t, but, the word isn’t the whole problem,” she said.

“It’s not?” asked Ax. He took a seat on the floor, against the wall, opposite her.

“Can we talk about these… veckles?” she said.

“Vecols,” Ax corrected. He shrugged again. “If you wish to.”

Cassie nodded. “Well, why don’t you tell me what that word means to you?” she suggested. “Don’t just attempt to translate it, but tell me its role.”

Ax thought for a moment, then said, “Well, in our society, when an Andalite is damaged in a way that cannot be mended by medical procedure or by the morphing ability, they are a vecol. To keep their honor, vecols live separate from the rest of society so as not to make a burden of themselves or to force healthy people to look upon such a form. I have come to understand that it is not entirely this way with you.”

Cassie looked aside, her features contorting in a way that Ax did not understand. “We’ll talk about us another time,” she finally muttered. She took a deep breath and, blinking rapidly, looked toward the ceiling. At last, she turned to him again and said, “Okay, so… You said this had to do with honor. Do these vecols feel more honorable to live this way?”

“Yes, of course,” said Ax.

“Did they tell you that?” Cassie asked calmly.

Ax frowned at her. “No, of course not. I would never have met one,” he said.

Cassie nodded, unsurprised. “So how do you know that they feel that way?” she asked.

“I… I was taught so,” Ax floundered. He was beginning to stiffen and to pull himself further away from her.

“By someone who had spoken to them?”

“... No,” said Ax.

“Let me ask you something else, Aximili,” said Cassie. “You’ve known Marco for almost a month now. Do you think that he is a person without honor? That he is a burden on us?”

Ax looked away, confused and ashamed for reasons he couldn't put words to.

“I’m not going to tell you what to think, Ax. I doubt that would accomplish anything,” Cassie said. “But I think you might be doing yourself a favor if you decided to ask _yourself_ some questions. Maybe you might ask why you believe things that you’ve never witnessed to be true but that you have witnessed the opposite of. Maybe you could ask why it is a better decision to tell a person what their circumstances are than to ask them. Perhaps, you might even ask yourself what motivation someone might have for institutionalizing a lie.”

Cassie smiled tightly and stood. “Just some food for thought,” she said. And then she left, closing the door again behind her so that Ax was left alone in silence.

Uncertainly, Ax’s hand migrated to the pocket of his lower garment. He pulled out the mini-porter to which he had wirelessly transferred Peter’s Z-space communication program. He regarded it carefully, unable to put words to the doubt beginning to seep into him.

He tucked the stick back into his pocket and moved out into the hall. He looked about to make sure no one, especially Tom or Erek, was about. Likely, Erek had secured Tom in his room to prevent a run in with the new visitors. With the two crews keeping each other busy and Marco and his father staying in Shuttle One, it was the best time for Ax to act on his plan.

He made his way back toward cargo, which still smelled heavily of animal waste, no matter how many times Rachel flushed it out. From there he could hear the drunken laughter floating down from the galley. As quietly as possible, he moved toward the second shuttle bay.

As soon as the airlock was closed, Ax sighed in relief. He moved toward the shuttle and opened the door. He didn’t bother closing it again, as he knew no one else had any reason to visit Shuttle Two. He made his way to the Cortex access point, tapped in a random ident code and was happy to see it work. The immense number of humans and their high birth and death rate worked to his advantage.

Next, he uploaded Peter’s program. There were a lot of modifications required, but it would be a lot easier to correct an extant program than to write a new one from scratch. Soon, he had it fixed and working. He installed the patch and rebooted the access point. The Blue Sun logo whirled momentarily, then Ax was prompted for coordinates and communication codes. He typed them in. Again, the logo appeared and whirled around thoughtfully.

Then, a face appeared. A hard, suspicious face.

An Andalite face.

“Who is this?” the Andalite demanded, the tought-speak voice translated to audible sound by the shuttle's speakers. “This is a high-security link. You are not an authorized sender. State your name and location.”

“I am Warrior Aximili-Esgarrouth-Isthill,” he identified himself. “I am afraid that I must use this morph for communication as this apparatus will not be able to receive my thought-speak, but I can prove my identity. I am the son of Noorlin-Sirinial-Cooraf and of Forlay-Esgarrouth-Maheen. I am… I _was_ the brother of Aristh Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul. I am currently located within Human Space.”

The Andalite scowled and checked his registry. “Like your brother, you disappeared. Unlike him, there are signs that your disappearance was willful. Is this true?”

“Yes,” said Aximili. “I went looking for my brother.”

“You are aware this is an act of sedition?”

“Yes,” said Aximili.

“Is this why you give your location as ‘Human Space,’ an unregistered region?”

“No,” said Aximili. “I gave that as my location because that is where I am. Because it is important for you to know that this place exists. Because the Yeerks are here, too.”


	4. Chapter 4

“You’re saying that you found a Yeerk outpost in this ‘Human Space?” the Andalite repeated.

“No, sir, I am saying that I have found a Yeerk _state_. They have infiltrated the government, they have control of interior trade, and they are poisoning the Humans into compliance. They have tried a different tactic here than they have before and it is working incredibly well. I estimate that, unless something drastic happens, they will have control of Human Space and its inhabitants within one cycle from now.”

“The Humans are suitable hosts for them?”

“Yes. There is easy access to the brain. They are highly ambulatory and have the ability to manipulate tools. They have a basic set of sense perception abilities, including the addition of taste, which is relative to smell but allows them to value their food, which is one of the most important trade items here and is also dosed with the compliance drugs that I mentioned,” Ax explained. “They are also extremely adaptive to needs and environment. They are already adapting Yeerk technology into their own without knowing of its origin despite the fact that it is far more advanced of their own. They consider Z-space an unfounded hypothesis, and yet they were recently able to create the tool by which I now communicate with you. Before even that, they were able to terraform most of the planets and moons of this system cluster which they call ‘The Verse’ after fleeing environmental damage to their own homeworld.”

The Andalite on the screen scoffed at that. “How many do they need?” he laughed.

“One hundred and ninety-six planets and moons, and they are still terraforming more,” said Ax, and he watched as horror slowly painted itself across the Andalite’s face. So he pressed the point. “With a total population of over fifty-one billion Humans.”

“Yaolin,” swore the Andalite on the screen. “And they are all Controllers?”

“No, sir,” said Aximili. “I believe that only a small portion of them are. If the Yeerks had already dominated the Humans they would not be so secretive about it. The Yeerk population is much smaller than the human population. If I might venture to guess, I would say that they are hiding themselves within the Human political power structure until they are ready to match the numbers, but they may simply be waiting for assurance that these drugs will work as intended. I believe they may still be in the testing phase.”

“Why do you believe they are only testing it, if the use of the drugs are as widespread as you claim?” said the Andalite.

“Because I have met a test subject. Despite what they have done to him, he has shown a remarkable amount of will,” said Ax. “More than I would have believed possible in a host, current or former.”

“Well,” said the Andalite, “I will certainly make sure that this report is seen. I think I speak for all Andalites when I thank you for letting us know of this wretched plague. Of course, I must remind you that this service you have paid is not an immediate redemption for your crimes; you will still have to answer to those. However, if you continue to communicate with us the state of circumstances in Human Space, that will be taken into consideration.”

“I cannot guarantee my ability to communicate,” said Ax. “But I will try.”

“I must ask… Have you found your brother?”

“Yes,” said Ax. “But he was fatally wounded by a projectile weapon and was unable to morph to save himself.”

“A projectile weapon?” the Andalite repeated.

“The Humans are… surprisingly adept with them,” said Ax. “Terrifyingly so.”

The Andalite laughed. “Well, unless you have anything else to communicate, I believe that settles matters here, Warrior Aximili. You are dismissed.”

“Thank you.” Ax reached forward and turned off the communication channel. He sighed and glanced toward the door. And practically jumped out of his skin. “Tobias!” he exclaimed.

Tobias stood leaning against the doorway with his hands in his pockets. He was watching Ax with an expression that Ax didn’t know how to read. “Hey,” said Tobias. “Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“... No,” said Ax. “How… how long have you been standing there?”

“Well, I saw you sneaking into the bay when I was on my way to my room, so… the whole time?” Tobias guessed.

“Ah.”

“Ax, why are you sneaking?” Tobias asked. “Surely, you didn’t think that if you asked to use the Cortex that we would be against you calling home?”

Ax lowered his gaze. “I had to make modifications to do so,” he admitted. “I stole them from Marco’s father. I thought you would mind that.”

“So Marco didn’t tell you that he has a collection of Peter’s wallets?” Tobias asked. “I don’t think he’s gonna care about some copied tech that let you try to reach your family and maybe the only people who can help us.”

“Are you going to tell him?” Ax asked quietly.

Tobias frowned. “I won’t if you don’t want me to,” he said. “But I gotta ask why you don’t want me to.”

“I… I do not trust them,” Ax admitted.

“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way,” said Tobias. “Because I do. And I think you might be more comfortable on this ship if you tried your hand at it, too.”

Ax raised his eyes to Tobias’s at last. “Do _you_ trust _me_?” he asked hesitantly.

Tobias shrugged. “I thought I did,” he said. He sighed and gestured to the screen of the access point. “When he said ‘wretched plague,’ did he mean…?”

“The Yeerks, of course,” Ax said, looking up at his nephew in confusion.

“Right. Of course.” Tobias tapped the door frame for a moment, hesitating. Then, he turned to leave.

“Tobias!” Ax called, and Tobias turned back to him. “Have I… Have I done something wrong again?”

Tobias shrugged. “I don’t guess so,” he mumbled.

“But… you are upset, are you not?”

Tobias shrugged again. “I guess… I just couldn’t help noticing that… you didn’t tell them _why_ he couldn’t morph the wound away.”

Ax tried to say something, to excuse his actions, but he came up blank. So Tobias left. Eventually, Ax uninstalled the software and took the data porter back to his room, which was not how he left it. Instead, it now featured a small, pale-skinned, very thin human with dark and dirty hair standing barefoot in the middle of his room wearing a loose dress.

“Who are you?” Aximili demanded, looking her over.

She tilted her head to look at him sideways. “Who are you?” she asked in all seriousness.

“You don’t belong here!” he said, stepping back and pointing into the hall in indication that she should leave.

She straightened up and grinned broadly. “Do you?” she asked as she passed by.

Ax watched her go, then, angrily slammed the door shut behind him and locked it.

－ －

Marco found Ax in the engine room, examining how, exactly, _Jian Seng_ was put together. “Hey,” Marco greeted him.

Ax glanced up and frowned. “Hello,” he mumbled.

“So… Jake agreed to give my dad a lift back to Ra Amiran, which should take the remainder of this three day period,” he said. “But, like you said, he _really_ doesn’t seem to be one.”

Ax’s frown deepened and he returned his attention to his inspections. “What happens when he returns to work?” he asked.

Marco sighed heavily and moved to sit on a box at one end of the room. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I tried to tell him what was really happening. Convince him to run away with me. At first, he thought I was crazy, then he decided that I was playing a particularly cruel joke.” Marco’s laugh did not sound amused. He shrugged and continued, “Besides, it wouldn’t really be fair. Nora’s still in the Core. I can’t just steal him away and abandon her there.”

“If they infest your father, they will know that you know,” said Ax.

“They already think that,” Marco said, scoffing. “Why do you think she’s playing these gorram games with us?”

Ax turned to him then. “‘She’?” he said. “Did you meet the Visser?”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Did I?” he asked. He shrugged again and waved it off. “If ‘visser’ is alien-speak for ‘huge bitch’, then yeah, I did.”

“There may be another way,” Ax said, turning away again. “If your father fails in his endeavor, they may not consider him useful enough to infest in the near-future. You could earn him some additional time.”

“First of all, he’s not gonna fail,” said Marco. “He’s great at his job. Secondly, time for what? What is saving one more day going to accomplish?”

“I… I stole his program,” Ax admitted.

“Yeah, so?”

Ax turned so suddenly back to Marco that he tripped on his feet and fell over. Marco laughed and got up to help him, but Ax waved him off. “You _knew_?” he demanded.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “You were only totally obsessed with his panel. So what was it for?”

Ax swallowed nervously and glanced aside. “I used it to reprogram the access point in the other shuttle and… and call home.”

Marco’s eyes widened. “You told them?” he demanded. “You actually reached the Andalites? They’re going to come?”

“I believe they will,” Ax said. “But… It may take a few of your years.”

Marco’s expression fell into grieved disbelief. “What? But… But you have the Z-space thingies that－”

“Z-space is not quite as simple as your father describes,” Ax explained. “It is unpredictable. While traveling it will not take all the decades that it would to travel normal space, getting here could take five of your weeks or five of your years.”

Marco collapsed back onto his seat. “Great,” he muttered. “So all I have to do is keep everyone I love safe for maybe five years.”

Ax fidgeted. “As I said… There may be another way…”

Marco looked at him. “What do you mean?” he said.

“I have thought about it quite a lot since communicating with my homeworld,” said Ax, “and I used a borrowed panel to reprogram the program again.” He pulled the data-porter out of his pocket and extended his hand to Marco. “If you were to replace the original files on your father’s panel with these, it will destroy the system when he installs it. They will not trust him with Yeerk technology again.”

Marco practically snatched the porter out of Ax’s hand. Then, he realized something and looked to Ax again. “If I do this… Will you be able to communicate with your home again?”

Ax shook his head. “Not by those means,” he admitted. “But I already uninstalled it from the other shuttle. I believe it is too risky to regularly make use of the Cortex for such purposes.”

Marco was suddenly kneeling next to him on the floor, pulling him into an enthusiastic hug. He squeezed tightly and buried his face in Ax’s hair. Ax, confused and flustered, simply continued sitting there. “Thank you,” Marco whispered. He released Ax and smiled down at him. “Really, thank you,” he repeated.

And then he ran off back to his shuttle, leaving Ax in stunned silence.


End file.
